Trying my Best

I haven't really been inspired to write...
1. I have no inspiration
2. When I have inspiration I either have to use it in an essay or a poem for class.
3. I have no time to write anymore.

I want to write though, which brings me here again.
What Liana said is true, it does come to a point where the little things stop making you cry. Things like the mountains, the police station, the front door.... I can look at these things now without crying. I feel like this is the beginning of happiness I guess. I still can't sleep in my bedroom, but everything will come with time.

There are many things that I want to write, but just keep deleting. I want to say these things without sounding depressed, but that is how they come out. And maybe it is all because I don't say these things out loud to anyone. I just smile, and smile some more, which is alright but it seems like it just leaves sad stuff for my writing. I often wonder about sad things about my Dad which makes me a very sad person. But I am trying my very hardest to stop and only remember the good things. Sometimes the whole thing plays over and over again in my head which confuses me. Or else I will have weird dreams that also confuse me about the Worst Week.

And I don't often mention the Gospel here which isn't fair. I wanted to bear a testimony, because in reality I am happy, and the parts of me that aren't will be someday. When we were driving home from the funeral in Idaho I read a book called The Message by Lance Richardson. I recommend it to anyone, even if you aren't experiencing a death of a loved one. Before reading the book I felt very hopeless about ever seeing my Dad again. When I was reading the book  I just had a strong feeling that it was true. That everything was true. Somehow, the Gospel is just true. Even though it is good to question and try to learn, sometimes we just have to accept that it is truth. (aka Faith). When I pray and read the scriptures I feel like my Savior is carrying some of the burden for me and the smile on my face doesn't seem forced anymore. This is what I know to be true, and I plan to know more as I keep studying and praying and trying my best.

Imagine

I already know the feeling. It's the same as trying to pick a title for the first song you wrote, or maybe it's something different. Like trying to pick who to love, and who to forget about.


I imagine myself very young most of the time. In fact, when I daydream about the day I will see my Dad again I am only a child, and he is a young man, and everything is the way it should be in Hurricane, and the stucco on my house isn't falling off, and the empty field by my house has many grasshoppers for us to catch. My feet burn on the pavement and I hop around. I am teaching Shelby how to ride a bike, and my Dad is smiling and saying "Never ever give up!" I am up in the willow tree, my Dad is mowing from the lawn, Kaylee and Shelby are on the trampoline, and my Mom is making dinner. I swing down from the tree yelling like Tarzan. I feel invincible. I am invincible. I am learning how to hum, I'm sitting next to Andrea in primary, I don't like tacos. I am on my Dad's shoulder superman style, swept off my feet and breathless. Then the earth is spinning, faster and faster.... I yell "Dad... DAD!!!" He swings me onto the couch and starts tickling me. "Can I have this dance?" he asks."Yes Dad..." I always replied with a smile. He turns on My Sharona by the Knack and he sings at the top of his lungs "My Sierra" and we dance and laugh and dance. We watch BYU games with Andertons, he takes me to high school basketball games, he teaches me how to play, soccer, basketball, cross country, softball, and frisbey. He loved me even though I was never good at any of them. We are at city council meetings and the mayor is still the mayor. We go on bike rides, then walks, then we only sit and talk about the world. He brings home a home a swimming pool. He would always let me win on Mario Kart for Nintendo. He took us bowling all the time. Sunday dinners at grandma, hunting for the best rocks with Liana. He tells me to be happy.  The family when he got home from work. I wish I would have ran up and hugged him that last time....

The Gambler

How is it that I am always left to these decisions, where neither outcome sounds great to me. Can't I just   want something?? Is there something wrong with believing in this, and sometimes I am not making decisions at all. I just keep existing only because my eyes keep shutting and opening, and shutting and opening. With every second it is one second more that I did it, and everything always has to end. Sometimes I just keep laughing because it is the opposite of crying and it feels good to me. The tears are always turning to laughter and apologies. Nothing will be like it was, but life has to continue and it has to change. And all of the sudden I am a step ahead and I am so proud! Look at me! Look what I can do!!! It's only when I look around and see that no one is looking. That it's just me, except of that boy with blue eyes that knows what it's like. I don't know him though, and we just look at each other. And I think about love stories and forever and I smile because only something so beautiful like us could last forever. My dreams are scary, my days are tiring, and my decisions confusing. But my friends are funny, and my family even stronger, and my hopes crazier than ever.

This makes everything okay.